


The Internet

by orphan_account



Category: Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Drabble, Fluff, Internet, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-07
Updated: 2016-10-07
Packaged: 2018-08-20 00:59:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 573
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8230726
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: “Crowley.”“Yesss?”“What’s the…internet?”





	

**Author's Note:**

> It seems I can't write anything but fluff. Ah well. Here's a hasty little drabble I whipped up one bored night.

The two sat, in silence, in the back of Aziraphale’s bookshop, shielded by the Closed sign hanging from the door. Crowley’s glasses were askew, showing a tiny glimmer of gold, and Aziraphale was slightly red in the cheeks. The angel appeared to be on the verge of asking something, opening and closing his mouth several times before finally speaking.

“Crowley.”                                                                                                     

“Yesss?”

“What’s the…internet?”

He pronounced it oddly, as if it were some sort of strange slang word. The demon burst out laughing, shaking his head at the ridiculous question.

“How the hell am I supposed to answer that, angel?” he chortled, adjusting his sunglasses.

Aziraphale blushed. “Well, I’ve just heard that term come up quite a few times, and I was just curious…oh, nevermind, it’s not really important…” he trailed off, embarrassed.

Crowley sighed. “No, I’ll give it a go. Um…” He tilted his head, trying to think of a way to explain. Eventually, he reached into his pocket and produced a sleek smartphone, pristine, glimmering silver. Aziraphale stared at it as if it contained a part of Satan’s soul.

“This is a phone,” Crowley stated. “A real phone. Not that outdated box of a thing that you still have. Basically, you ask the internet stuff, and it answers it.”

The angel frowned, uncomprehending. “But how does it know?”

Crowley threw him a dubious look. “It just does. Look –“

He entered in his own name, for lack of a better thing to add, and tapped the search button sleekly. It appeared, alive with results in merely a few seconds.

Aziraphale stared at the screen. “How did it do that? That’s…information about you!”

“Oh yes,” Crowley grinned.

“Do people know about us?”

Crowley grinned wider. “You bet they do, angel. A little too much.”

The angel thought for a moment, then asked, “Which side invented it?”

“Neither. It was all the humans.”

“Really?” Aziraphale appeared surprised. “I would have thought it would have been your side.”

Crowley frowned. “Hey, don’t blame me,” he muttered.

Aziraphale still looked very confused, drumming his fingers on the faded wooden table. He frowned at the phone, as if it had wronged him somehow.

“So what else do you do on this internet thing? Is there anything else?”

Crowley slitted eyes narrowed as he thought. "Well, there’s apps, which let you do things, play games and such. One of my inventions,” he said, proudly. “I’m particularly pleased with the mobile games. Flappy Bird may just be my greatest achievement.”

Aziraphale groaned. “Do you mean that dreadful thing where you catch those monsters, what do you call it again…”

The demon cackled. “You mean Pokemon Go?” he said, grinning triumphantly.

“Yes, that! And that…Instantgram thing.”

Crowley laughed even harder. “Instantgram!” he exclaimed, giggling.

Aziraphale frowned. “Why are you laughing?” he muttered reproachfully, slightly bewildered.

“Oh, Zira, I don’t think you’re cut out to understand the internet,” Crowley sighed.

“No, I guess not, my dear.”

“Perhaps it’s for the best.”

The angel smiled. “Yes, maybe.”

Crowley winced. “But really, angel, you have to get rid of that awful phone, internet or not.”

Aziraphale looked reproachful. “What’s wrong with it?”

“Everything,” groaned Crowley, placing his chin on the table and shaking his head at the oblivious angel. Sometimes it was very irritating, having your only friend stuck in the fifties.

Ah well. Perhaps it was for the best.

Besides, God knows what he would think of the fanfiction.

 


End file.
